


The Wrong Girl

by arysa13



Series: 2019 Kink Meme Fills [10]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage, F/M, Humiliation, Mistaken Identity, Rape, Revenge, golden showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Modern AU where Clarke and Josephine are identical twins & Josie was dating Bellamy, but she cheated or broke up with him or whatever, and Bellamy wanted revenge. Bellamy breaks into her house, then gags, rapes, and humiliates her.What he doesn't know is that Josie had Clarke staying at her house instead...and Clarke had been in love with Bellamy the whole time he was dating her sister.





	The Wrong Girl

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE heed the warnings/tags. I know this isn't for everyone, so please do not read it if you think it may trigger you.

There’s a moment of panic when Clarke wakes up in the middle of the night, and she can’t remember where she is. Her heartrate evens out when she recalls that she’s in her sister Josie’s bed, housesitting for her twin while Josie is out of town for the week.

The bedroom door opens, and Clarke jolts upright, her fear returning. She must have woken up because of some sound this intruder made. She glances around for a weapon to use, but freezes when he flicks the light on. She squints at him.

“Bellamy?” she says, confused. Her sister’s boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. She’s pretty sure they broke up. So she’s not sure what he’s doing here in the middle of the night. Unless… he’s here for her?

Her stomach flips over. What if—what if he found out she was staying at Josie’s, and he’s come to tell her he’s realised he was never in love with Josie, that he was thinking about Clarke the whole time?

She squashes the childish fantasy. Her stupid crush on him always has her conjuring up unrealistic scenarios that involve him confessing his love to her and then fucking her, soft and slow. Not one of them has ever come true, because he doesn’t love her. He picked Josie, not her. She has to face that fact.

Besides, if that’s what he was here for, he’d hardly be skulking around in the dark. No, it’s far more likely he’s come for a late night booty call from Josie, despite their recent break up.

In the time it takes Clarke to come to this conclusion, Bellamy has made his way over to the bed. He sits down beside her, and places a small duffel bag on the bed. Clarke frowns in confusion. He still hasn’t said anything. Does he think she’s Josie? Clarke always thought he could tell the difference, but maybe it’s just been luck.

“What are you—” she starts to ask, but before she can finish, he’s shoving something hard and round into her mouth. She tries to spit it out, but he holds it in place, and then he’s doing up the leather strap that’s attached to it.

Panicking, Clarke reaches for it, but Bellamy grabs her wrists, gripping them too tight, hurting her.

“I don’t think so,” Bellamy smirks. “You’re going to shut up for once.”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. He really thinks she’s Josie. Clarke doesn’t know what kind of fucked up sex life they have but she wants no part of it. She tries to speak, to tell him she’s not Josie, but the ball in her mouth turns her words into muffled whimpers. Bellamy laughs.

Clarke shakes her head at him. She feels sick, terrified. She always wanted him to fuck her, but not like this.

“Scared?” Bellamy whispers.

Clarke nods. Tears prick her eyes.

“Good,” Bellamy spits. He reaches into his bag, keeping her wrists held in one hand, and pulls out a coil of rope. Clarke eyes it, whimpering. She tries to pull her wrists free, but even with one hand he’s much too strong for her.

 _Bellamy,_ she tries to say. He ignores her attempts at speech.

“This is what you get for cheating on me, you ungrateful whore,” he says. He wraps the rope around her wrists, pulling it tight so it digs into her skin painfully. “I treated you like a princess, and you paid me back by fucking your ugly ex.”

Tears stream down Clarke’s face. She tries to tell herself he’s just trying to scare her. He’ll tie her up, leave her like that for a while and then come back and let her go. She can forgive him for that, for thinking she’s Josie. Josie would probably deserve that anyway.

He finishes binding her wrists, and then he pulls the covers away from the rest of her body. She’s just wearing a t-shirt and underwear, and she blushes as his eyes fall on her bare legs and her exposed panties.

Bellamy pulls a pair of scissors out of his bag. Before Clarke can even register what’s happening, he’s slicing her t-shirt to pieces. Down the middle first, and then the sleeves. The jaggedly cut scraps fall from her body, and Clarke sits there, mortified, as Bellamy stares at her bare tits. She tries to cover herself with her bound wrists, but Bellamy pulls them away. He discards his scissors and the duffel bag on the floor, then shoves Clarke roughly down on the bed, pushing her tied hands above her head.

Her back arches and her tits strain towards him. Her blush covers her face and chest, and her heart races. Her nipples are hard. She doesn’t know which is stronger, her fear or her embarrassment.

“Your tits were always the best thing about you,” Bellamy says. Clarke struggles beneath him, trying to get her wrists free, but it’s no use. He continues to hold her like that with one hand, while the other reaches down to tweak her pointed nipple. “Lord knows I wasn’t with you for your personality.”

Clarke lets out a squeak. She prays for him to stop. That this is as far as it goes. This is embarrassing enough, terrifying enough.

“But I want one last fuck. And this time it’s for me, not for you.”

Clarke sobs. He’s going to rape her. He’s going to rape her because he thinks she’s Josie, and she has no way to tell him she’s not. She cries pathetically, tears escaping from her eyes quickly now.

He reaches for her panties. Panic rises in her throat. He’s going to see her pussy. As if _that’s_ the part she should be worried about.

He yanks them down her legs, and she naked in front of him. Apparently, she looks just like her twin, even naked. How can he not tell the difference?

“Aw, Jose,” Bellamy says. “You stopped shaving, huh? Didn’t know you were doing that just for me.”

He runs his fingers through the soft curls between her legs. Clarke burns with embarrassment. He pushes his fingers inside her, violating her. They’re so big inside her. Under different circumstances, Clarke could imagine herself liking this.

“God, you’re tight,” Bellamy laughs. “And you’re wet. Turns you on to think of me raping you, doesn’t it? You’re such a fucking whore, Josie.”

Clarke shakes her head. So he knows what he’s doing. This isn’t some game he and Josie like to play. He wants to revenge rape her sister. Only her sister isn’t here, and he doesn’t know that. Would he stop, if he knew it was Clarke?

He pulls his fingers from her abruptly, and gets off the bed. Clarke glances at the door. She could run. Her legs aren’t tied after all. But he’s quicker than her, and stronger. And even if somehow she managed to get out, she’d be naked and bound on the street, and she doesn’t know if that’s any better than this.

He’s naked now, and he goes to his bag and pulls something out of it. Clarke’s eyes widen when she realises what it is. A butt plug, and a big one at that. And it’s not just a regular plug either, it appears to have some kind of tail attached to it. Bellamy climbs back onto the bed, plug in hand. His cock is huge. Clarke feels her cunt throb at the sight of it. No. No. She’s not going to enjoy this.

“Turn over,” he commands. Clarke shakes her head. Bellamy grabs her and flips her onto her stomach. She tries to crawl away. He can’t put that in her ass. She’s never had anything in her ass. It’s humiliating and painful.

Bellamy shoves her down again. “You’re just making this worse for yourself,” he tells her. “Be thankful it’s just a plug and not my cock.” He spreads her ass cheeks apart, then starts working the plug into her hole, not bothering with any kind of lubrication.

Clarke groans in pain as he pushes it into her. The stretch burns, her ass feels like it’s being ripped in half. Tears stream down her face, from both the pain and the humiliation of it all. Somehow, he gets the whole thing in her ass. He tugs on the tail, and Clarke whines.

“Looks good,” he tells her. He flips her over again so she’s lying on her back. She’s kept her wrists above her head, and her arms are starting to hurt. She can feel her asshole throbbing around the plug, the tail sticking out and hanging between her legs.

Bellamy shoves her thighs apart, his thumbs pressing into her soft skin so hard, she knows there will be bruises there later.

Then his cock is at her entrance, and she’s still crying, hoping he’ll stop. But he thrusts into her anyway, no warning, no tenderness. Clarke always imagined him to be soft with her. Kissing her gently all over her body. Sinking into her carefully, then rocking his cock into her, steady but gentle. Loving.

This is nothing like that at all. He ploughs into her roughly, his hands holding her down firmly in place, while his cock wrecks her pussy, and the plug pushes into her ass. It hurts, at first. But even through the pain, she can feel the pressure building between her legs. Knows with each thrust that it’s starting to feel good, that she likes it, likes having his cock pounding into her without a care for her pleasure, knowing she doesn’t want it.

Her whimpers of pain turn to whimpers of pleasure, and she hates herself for it. She’s going to come, she knows she’s going to come. There’s nothing she can do to stop it, though she tries to hold off, hoping he’ll come before she does.

He reaches between her legs and pulls on her tail, and with the extra pressure on her ass, she can’t hold it off any longer. Can’t hide it either. She moans against the gag in her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut, her toes curling and her cunt clenching around him as liquid gushes out of her.

Bellamy laughs. She used to love the sound of his laugh. Now it makes her flinch. “Like having your tail pulled, don’t you?” he says. “Little slut.”

He keeps fucking her, like she’s nothing but a ragdoll. Her tits bounce, and he watches them. She hears his breathing change, grow more laboured, and she knows he’s close to coming. She assumes he’ll come inside her. She’s not on the pill, she’ll have to go to the pharmacy in the morning and get the morning after pill.

But then he pulls out of her, and he aims his cock at her tits. His come lands on her chest first, but he’s not done, and he aims higher, so his load splatters on her face. It misses her eyes, thankfully, but it drips around the ball gag and into her mouth.

“Much better,” Bellamy pants. “Always wanted to come on your tits and face. Not such a pretty little princess now, are you? Just a dumb come slut.”

More tears roll down Clarke’s face. All her illusions of Bellamy being a good man are shattered. Her pussy hurts, her ass throbs. But he’s done now. He raped an orgasm from her, he put a tail in her ass, he came all over her. Her humiliation is complete.

“Fuck,” Bellamy swears. “I need to piss. You don’t mind, right?”

Clarke frowns in confusion. Bellamy holds his cock in one hand, and kneeling above her, he starts pissing. She tries to gasp as his stream hits her stomach. She starts crying even harder. She’s too shocked to even try to wriggle away, so she just lies there, paralysed, as he pisses all over her.

It seems to go on forever, but eventually he finishes, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he says. “But you deserved this, you know that right? Someone had to put you in your place.”

Clarke turns her head away. She can’t even look at him anymore. She’s covered in his come and his piss, like he’s marked his territory. The stupid, fucked up thing is, if he’d asked her, she might have let him do all this to her anyway.

“I think you can keep the tail. And the ropes. But I’ll get rid of the gag so you can call for help if you need to.”

He leans over her, undoes the strap and pulls the gag from her mouth, saliva and come going with it.

“Go on,” Bellamy snarls. “Tell me how much you hate me.”

“I’m not Josie,” Clarke says, her voice sounding much smaller than she means it to.

“What?” Bellamy frowns.

“Josie’s out of town,” Clarke sobs, the dam breaking again. “She asked me to housesit.”

A look of horror passes over Bellamy’s face, then guilt, regret, shame. “Clarke?” he chokes out. Clarke nods.

“How could you not know it was me?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry—I thought—I thought you were Josie. Fuck.” He reaches for her, and she flinches, pulling away. “Let me untie you,” he says gently. _Now_ he’s gentle with her.

She lets him remove the ropes, and he rubs his thumb over the red indentations it’s left in her skin. He looks her up and down, and she burns with shame. Somehow it’s even more embarrassing to be naked in front of him, to be covered in his come and piss, now that he knows who she really is. Now that he’s looking so regretful and unsure.

“Do you want me to clean you up?” Bellamy asks softly. “It’s the least I can do.”

Clarke nods. She doesn’t know if she’s capable of doing it herself. Bellamy helps her up, then leads her towards the bathroom. She’s still got the tail in her ass, but she doesn’t want to remind him that it’s there. That he made her come by pulling on it.

He puts her in the shower and turns it on, then gets in after her. He wets a cloth under the warm running water, then wipes her face gently, then her tits, and her stomach, until she’s clean. He wipes the cloth between her legs, then turns her around.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I forgot about the tail.” She feels him twirl his finger around it, and she’s embarrassed all over again. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs again, lips against her shoulder. “I’m so so sorry, Clarke. For all of it.”

Clarke nods. It’s nice to know he wouldn’t have done it to her. But he’s still a rapist. He tugs on the tail, and she moans. “Do you like it?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Clarke admits.

“Do you want to come again? For you this time. Not for me.”

Clarke nods. She hears his breath hitch. His hand snakes around her waist and settles between her legs. His middle finger fondles her clit, and it doesn’t take him long to draw another orgasm from her.

“I should go,” he says, pulling his hand away. “If you want to report me to the police I understand.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Really?”

Clarke shakes her head, she turns to face him. “I can’t. I don’t want you to go to prison.”

“I appreciate that. I don’t deserve it.” He smiles sadly. “Wish I’d met you before I met Josie.”

“Me too.”

Bellamy nods, and he gets out of the shower. Clarke watches as he towels himself off, and then he leaves. Clarke hates him, even though she’s still in love with him. She hates herself. She wonders how long she’ll last before she breaks and calls him, and begs him to do all of that to her again.


End file.
